


Tron Drabbles

by viceindustrious



Category: Tron: Legacy (2010)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-08-17
Updated: 2011-08-17
Packaged: 2017-10-22 17:28:36
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 514
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/240653
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/viceindustrious/pseuds/viceindustrious
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A series of drabbles inspired by Tron Legacy.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Tron Drabbles

**New Pet**

 

Ram tugs at his leash, the glowing circlet of light around his ankle and grins, lopsided. Clu's quarters are hazy with melting, mixing streaks of colour, laser straight edges smudged by the energy high he's floating on.

His body feels light and smooth, so slick. He runs a looping process and squirms, does it again, pulsing the data in fast, hard parcels this time. It's so easy. Faster, harder, more, more.

That strange, dark program is watching him. Maybe. Hard to tell with the helmet, but Ram likes to think so. He moans, flirting with overload, putting on a show.

 

-

 

**Lucid Programming**

 

Strangest thing about this dream is how long it took to get to the good stuff.

There's a dip in Ram's back as he crawls, a little sway in his hips like he's asking for it and sure, Flynn usually dreams about girls, but he can go with this flow. He puts his hand on Ram's ankle, slides it up his leg.

Ram spins round. "What are you doing?"

Flynn grins.

"Hey, no, we have to find-"

Flynn tightens his grip and thinks about what he wants. A flash of circuits. Ram struggles; shudders, falls back, legs spread wide open.

 

-

 

**Road to Damascus**

 

"What did it feel like?" Castor asks.

Kneeling over Ram, the air between them is dry and charged and smells like burning plastic. There's a sharp metallic strip of heat running from the back of Castor's tongue down to his groin.

"A User!" He starts laughing, high and giddy. "Oh my, were you in awe, sweetheart? Did it . . . _Change The World_?"

He presses his palm against the side of Ram's face, framing one wide, dumb eye between his thumb and forefinger.

"All this time. He never looked for you. You never even crossed his mind. What does _that_ feel like?"

 

-

 

**(Are Made of This)**

 

Clu rubs two fingers down the centre of Ram's tongue, back to the sweet little clutch of his throat.

"Do you dream, Ram?" he wonders aloud.

Ram looks up, his mouth shining and swollen with use. He doesn't gag as Clu strokes his soft palate. Dark purple and hips twitching, he's only half functioning, all of his processes arrested. Response timeout, every nanosecond that passes without Clu allowing him to connect sends back an error message that both pushes him toward and blocks him from overload. Clu's design.

"Dreams of me? No? Let's play around with your code some more."

-

 

**Perfection in Absence**

 

Rinzler lands on the balls of his feet, fingers splayed; the last knuckle of each digit perfectly equidistant from its brother, their tips barely grazing the black ice of the arena floor.

His discs do exactly as he wills, flight calculated to an accuracy beyond meaningful decimals. Their falling star screech through the air, the gemini swathe they cut, mirrored in the arc of his back.

Pure inside, vast swathes of data, mystery protocols attached to missing names, excised. His code a booming echo chamber for the novas of pleasure that burst through him with each program derezzed. He purrs.


End file.
